Spoils
by Sailor Comet
Summary: A series of unrelated takes on why the antagonist can never be allowed to win, for the sake of the story. And their sanity.
1. Take One

To the victor go the spoils.

Spoil, _verb_; To corrupt, to cause to go bad. _He spoils her with his influence._

Spoils 

Take One 

The Rod had been the last item he'd gotten. Logically, he should have gone after Marik first, as the Egyptian only had one item and anybody else had more than that, but he'd gone for Yuugi first. The partnership he had with Marik was still in effect, after all. It would have been pointless to turn on a potential ally until there were no other options left. 

Even so, even after presenting Marik with an unconscious Yuugi to do with what he pleased, and thus ending their alliance, there was a twinge of something that resembled regret when he slid the rod from Marik's limp fingers and wiped the blood off on his shirt. He shouldn't have been bothered. Marik had told him, "you want the Rod, you'll have to pry it from my cold, dead fingers, bastard!" So he had obliged. There was no reason for the guilt. 

Bakura was going to have a Hell of a time washing out all the blood from his hair and clothing, if he let his mortal host have control any time soon. Or if Bakura was even going to bother – he'd been rather lifeless and apathetic to an extreme since Yami Bakura had handed Yuugi over to Marik. The big-eyed boy's screams must have gotten to Ryou. 

Yuugi, though he'd had more advantages, also had more weaknesses, and so Yami Bakura had gone for him first. He had a relatively simple strategy: Screw Yami no Games, just get somebody close to Yuugi and trade for the Items. 

Getting Yuugi's friends was easier than taking control of Ryou's body. It was child's play to raise his voice to the boy's normal pitch, making them think that the Ring Spirit was dormant, and there was no challenge in imitating Ryou's standard mannerisms and gestures, as they were the same as his own. So he'd smiled and talked with Yuugi and his friends, and even played a game of Magic and Wizards against Jounouchi. The hardest part had been _letting_ the blond win, and acting normally. Yuugi couldn't have known that he'd held back during the match; he'd kept his hand hidden throughout. 

Then after that, he'd pulled Katsuya to the side and asked to see the Flame Swordsman. The request didn't come completely out of the blue, following shortly after their game, and so Jounouchi passed the card over. 

The Ring glowed, and the tall body slumped over, without a soul to direct it. 

Then it got a slight bit trickier. He'd moved the ring from Ryou's neck to Katsuya's, taking the blond's taller and stronger body, and pocketing the soul card in the school uniform's pants. Bakura's body fell to the ground, the boy not realizing he'd been given the reigns until a moment after the impact. Then he stood up, recognizing the spirit possessing Jounouchi's body for who he was immediately. 

"Jounouchi" slipped the ring beneath his shirt, punched Bakura in the stomach, and left the now-unconscious boy behind him as he walked off in search of Anzu and Honda. 

Finding them wasn't a challenge, and in Jounouchi's body it was a snap to get their souls. He didn't bother hiding the bodies, but left them to lie where they'd fallen. If Yuugi found them before he found Yuugi (unlikely, considering the Ring's abilities), it would be all the more incentive for him to agree to the terms that would be set. 

He did find Yuugi shortly, and the boy saw through Jounouchi's body as soon as he'd turned around to see who was there. It didn't matter, though, and the spirit held up all three cards with a confident grin. 

"Wanna trade?"

The three souls for the Millennium Tauk – instantly agreed to. He threw the cards at Yuugi once the necklace was in his hand, and turned to leave. Yuugi – now Yami Yuugi – shouted for him to stop, and demanded Jounouchi's body back as well. 

Now, that would take a game to decide. 

With a deranged smile, he transported the two of them to the Shadow Realm, knowing and enjoying the pain that it caused Yuugi to be pitted against his closest friend for a – what was it up to now? – third time. Pegasus and Malik had the right ideas. He should have tried this sooner. Better late than never, in any case. 

Ah, thinking of Pegasus… the Eye appeared in his hand, and his smile grew. In the Shadow Realm, there was no opportunity for the Mind Shuffle. The Eye's ability, coupled with the Tauk's glimpses into the future, ensured his victory. 

His best plan yet. The only problem was to get Yami Yuugi to agree to the game, since the odds were so obviously staked against him. And there was that whole 'friendship' thing that had been Pegasus's downfall. He wondered if they could still get to Yuugi from the confines of their cards. If they could, he had a chance of loosing. And whenever Yami Yuugi had a chance to win, he took it. 

Still, now or never, and there was no time like the present.

So, the proposal: "I'll give you all three of my Items; the Ring, Eye, and Tauk. Your friend will get his body back. And you know what you can do to me if you have the Ring. If you win. Otherwise, I get the Puzzle. And you know what I will do to you if I have the Puzzle."

The chance to be rid of the Tomb-Thief forever was an enticing offer. And Yuugi never lost.

Except that one time he lost to Jounouchi… 

There was no way for him to win this one. Jounouchi's face was twisted into the horrible mockery of a grin that the thief usually wore, and stared at Yuugi, reading his thoughts and taking obvious, perhaps exaggerated, pleasure in his palpable discomfort and fear. 

Even if it was only Katsuya's body. Even if Yuugi clutched the Flame Swordsman card in his hand. Even though the stakes were all or nothing. His friends were trapped – if he'd  put off the match until they'd been restored to their bodies – but that wasn't possible, since Jounouchi's body was – his friends couldn't protect him. 

There was no way to stop the Eye's powers in the Shadow Realm. There was no way to win. 

He cackled as Yuugi's life points fell to zero. 

Later he'd returned to Bakura's body, the boy still lying where he'd landed when the Tomb-Robber had struck him. Though Jounouchi's was obviously the better in physical qualities, Bakura was his physical reincarnation, and there was no denying the desire to have _his_ body. Besides, being shorter had its advantages at times. 

Not in Yuugi's case. But at times. 

The Millennium Ankh and Scales were obtained without too much hassle, after that. He'd found Shaadi easily enough with the Ring, and the man had not even bothered fighting – Yami Bakura had twice the amount of items. It was almost annoying, that somebody would give up that quickly, but he did not question that good fortune. 

He'd only stopped to tell Shaadi, "you should have killed me."

The man nodded, hoop earrings bobbing. "I know." 

That had left Marik.

It had almost seemed like the Egyptian hadn't expected him to try for the Rod. Which was foolishness – he had six of the items, why stop there? He practically had his own body; all the resistance was gone from Ryou. So he'd approached Marik, and the boy had fought a battle he'd known he would lose. 

Yami Bakura knew from experience that there was no greater torture than fighting something that you knew you could not win. He'd watched gleefully as Pegasus destroyed Kaiba in the same way, knowing that Seto would not forfeit what was obviously a hopeless match. 

Had Marik been crying when he slit his throat with the knife end of the Rod? It didn't matter, now, though. Marik was just as bad as the boy Ryou was, if he'd had any hope that perhaps he wouldn't kill anybody in his way of all seven items. 

Anything that he wanted, now. Each item glowed, resonating and feeding off each other, a cycle of power that even Yami Bakura had his doubts as to whether or not he could control. 

He was the greatest thief that had ever been, and now he had anything and everything he wanted. 

Marik's dull purple eyes stared up at him, as though asking, "well, what do you want? You've been staring at the Sennen Sets for a fucking fifty minutes without doing anything. Hell, wait too much longer and my body'll start to smell." 

He shook his head. He knew what he wanted. Power, control over everything, and nobody – especially if they were dead already – was going to stop him. 

With a thought the tan body disappeared, the Rod briefly dimming before continuing it's alluring glow. Now there was no possible guilt trip from the corpse. He'd killed hundreds before – why did Marik's body have a seeming hold over him? 

From the back of his mind he heard Ryou sniffling. There, that was one thing he wanted. His own body and mind, not to be shared with any. Gripping the Ring he forcibly expunged Ryou from his mind, causing the boy to fall out of the air before him in a physical manifestation. It was not a true body, though – he had the body now, and Bakura was just a projection of the boy's mind, which would soon be obliterated. 

The white haired boy lifted his head to lock eyes with the thief. His green eyes shined with liquid that dripped down his face like clear blood. 

With a thought, he and all guilt associated with him was gone. Like the Rod before it, the Ring dimmed for less than a second. 

Now there was nothing to prevent him from getting what he wanted. Nothing to stop him from …

A voice that sounded like Marik whispered in his mind, "what do you want?"

Then a sad, reproachful thought that sounded like the now-banished Ryou, "you have absolute control." 

He shook his head forcefully, Bakura's white hair whipping about. What he wanted was to be free from that regret! They'd all known he would do it without hesitation, they'd all known that he wasn't the indecisive and wavering mess that Ryou had been. There was no reason to feel that maybe he'd done something that he shouldn't have. He'd told Shaadi that the man should have killed him, and Shaadi had agreed. 

What did he want?

Without Marik there, it was lonely. Without the Pharoah to challenge and insult and try to kill, there was no goal for him. 

Without Ryou there, begging and crying for him not to hurt them, his mind felt empty. 

He screamed angrily, and nobody heard. 

What did he want?

When he was younger he'd just wanted a chance. Yet there was no chance in Ancient Egypt for one to change their position, not within the iron caste system that kept the lower class in their place and allowed none to rise in status. The Pharaohs married their sisters to keep that control over the people and slaves. 

So he'd broken out of that system and cursed his own soul, his _ka_, stealing from the tombs and selling the gold. Then he'd wanted the impossible, which was companionship. He'd killed that desire, ripping it to shreds and knowing that he needed nobody, that a companion would hold him back. Yuugi's friends, while they'd helped him before, had ultimately been his downfall. 

Then, when he'd been caught, his goals had changed. Revenge. Revenge on that god damned pharaoh and all others. 

He'd gotten his revenge. Now what did he want?

He screamed again. Screaming was nice. It was a way for him to let out his rage without hurting himself. Maybe he should have kept Ryou around anyway, for when he got angry like this.

He could, he realized, get Ryou back. He could bring any back and send any away as he pleased. 

A thought flickered through his mind: Hell, with the Tauk's ability over time, augmented by the other Items, he could go back. 

But why would he want to do that? Go back, yeah, to where he and Marik weren't any closer to their goals than when they'd started, to where the Pharaoh bested them at anything they threw at him, to where his only companions were a confused teenage Egyptian and a sniveling brat he shared his mind with. 

Companion? Marik had been that. As had Bakura. 

He didn't need any one else, though, and he'd gotten rid of them accordingly. 

It didn't stop the fact that he now felt empty and alone without them. That was what having allies or, Ra forbid, **friends**, did to you. 

"So," his mind asked in Marik and Ryou's voices speaking together, "what are you going to do?"

Even if he did go back, what was to stop him from doing it all again, less he remembered? Besides that, the satisfaction of **finally** emerging victorious against them all, of coming out on top after so long, was something that he did not want to let go of. And he couldn't have any of them remember, if he went back. None of them would know that he'd won. And he'd **wanted** to win. That desire had overwhelmed all others. 

So, no. He'd gotten this far – he'd won, finally! He was not going to let go of any of it. 

Because he'd find something else that he wanted, eventually. Now that he'd gotten his revenge and the items, now that he had control, now that nobody could hurt him any more, he could be content. Couldn't he?

Ryou's body cried, wailing and screaming, pulling at its hair and clenching its fists. 

Nobody came to comfort it. Eventually it tired and fell to the ground, breathing heavily.

Hours later the white-haired child – that is all a teenager is; a child – had not yet moved from lying on the ground. It lifted its head, eyes taking in the circle of gold that floated above it. 

The Tauk dimmed briefly and the items scattered.


	2. Take Two

For once I'm able to answer my reviews since it's a multi-part fic. Just so you guys all know, your reviews make the Sam feel happy and I grin when I get them. … And there is the recommended dose of corniness for the day.

**Rayemars**: Heh, I'm glad you liked it ^_^ You'll make my ego get too big though. And I do call him Bakura in other parts of the fic – I usually make it a point to use both names, since everybody else just uses Ryou. ^_~

**Chibizoo**: If you influenced me it was subconsciously. Or are you referring to the fact that everybody dies and the ending's ambiguous? (yes, I'm still upset over Club 0013, even if it was an excellent fic.) But I hadn't read Club 0013 when I wrote this, so I don't know.

**Chevira Lowe**: ^_^ You flatter me. Heh, I'm the same way with the certain group of authors I'll read – so much of the stuff on ff.net isn't very good at all. I just hope this part is up to standard. ::sweatdrop::

**Saria **and **Indigo**: Thank you guys muchly! ^_^

~~~

And just so everybody knows, this is a TWT. Does not work with the timeline of YuGiOh in any way. And this take is completely unrelated to the first one.

~~~

To the victor go the spoils.

Spoil, _verb_; To corrupt, to cause to go bad. _He spoils her with his influence._

Spoils Take Two 

Marik sat on his motorcycle with his arms crossed, resting on the handlebars and supporting his chin. His light purple eyes stared off into space, half-lidded and not focusing on anything. He heard the door to the garage open, and then somebody walking towards him and not bothering to silence their footfalls. He didn't care. Only one other person would come here to bother him, and from the sound of the sneakers hitting the concrete floor, it was that one person. 

They said if you lived with somebody long enough you grew to recognize the sound of their walk. Marik didn't live with Yami Bakura; his partner in crime had the home of his human host. Still, the Egyptian teenager knew the white-haired boy's step, and didn't turn his head to look at the thief. 

Yami Bakura stopped a ways from the bike and stood, waiting. He didn't like to be ignored, but still had an unnatural amount of patience. Marik, on the other hand, couldn't stand to be kept waiting, and after five minutes or so of staring at a blank wall, he turned his head to face Bakura. With the motion a few blond strands of hair fell from his shoulder to hang in the air. 

"What?" Marik asked. His voice was annoyed, but that was the norm. Yami Bakura didn't react to his tone, merely shrugged.

"I was bored. Started thinking about things, and decided I'd come bother you," he said. He stood relaxed, weight on his left leg, hands in the pockets of Bakura's jeans. He fiddled with the yen pieces he found in one pocket. 

"Well?" The voice was, again, annoyed, but the eyes had lost their bored and blank look. 

Yami Bakura shifted, distributing his weight evenly on both legs. He dropped the yen back into the jean pocket. Marik became more aware that it was a serious issue, and sat up straight to listen. 

"Why do we bother with the Yami no Games?" The silver-haired thief asked. 

Marik allowed one corner of his mouth to twitch upward in his trademarked lunatic grin. "That's all?" He asked. One hand flicked his blond hair back over his shoulder. "That's easy." He paused, testing his partner's patience, before continuing on, "if we just went in and attacked, screw the Games, we'd have a good chance of winning."

Yami Bakura nodded, and spoke again. His voice was not the usual angry taunting tone; it was neutral. "That was the reason I thought of, too." Then the anger returned to his voice. "But I stopped thinking about it after I figured that out. I don't like that reason." 

Marik nodded. "It's called denial, and I'm not talking about the river." That comment earned him a snort. "But really. What _would_ Yuugi and the other morons do without us to spice up their lives?" He asked sarcastically and leaned back in the bike's seat, hands dropping from the handlebars to rest on his knees. 

"What kind of a question is that? I'm not here to entertain them." The thief snorted again. 

Marik shook his head lightly, blond tresses swishing with the motion. "I didn't think I'd have to spell it out for you," he said, knowing that he was possibly the only person who could say something like that to the robber that and still be alive. Yami Bakura's fists were clenching, though. 

"Get to your point, if you have one," he growled, and Marik saw that his teeth were clenched as well. 

"You do it for the challenge," Marik stated, contrastingly calm. "That's what you seek in life, the thrill and the challenge, and it doesn't matter that you lose because it's still fun to play." He waited, knowing that he'd need to give the pale one time to retort vocally, else he'd retaliate in other ways. When no reply came, he picked up where he'd left off. "And then, if we won, what would we do? Chances are we'd kill each other if the other team was gone." 

Marik expected some half-assed comment about his sister's visions into the future, and a taunt of 'did he know that for a fact,' but his expectations went unfulfilled. The tomb robber said nothing still, and after a moment, inhaled and exhaled audibly. "What about Pegasus?" He asked. Though his face was neutral, his voice was once again teasing and angry, although it wasn't true anger. It never was, until he dropped the taunting facet and only anger was audible. Marik allowed his muscles to un-tense. "He's rather dead because of me, I'd say," Yami Bakura persisted. 

The tan boy nodded. "But you knew that Yuugi was still there to play with."

"So," the white-haired one started, "we keep suffering defeat after humiliating defeat, because we've got nothing better to do and without us it'd be boring as hell." 

Marik shrugged. "Yep. We, my friend, are the most vital part of the plot."****

After a long, not-uncomfortable silence in which each antagonist was involved in his own thoughts, Yami Bakura spoke up again, smirking. "Doesn't change the fact that dying still hurts like a bitch."


	3. Take Three

Soundtrack: _Poor Impulse Control_ – Jack Off Jill, _Who Wants To Live Forever?_ – Queen

Warnings: Death, and probably not the way you're expecting. Non-linear storytelling. Serious mental instability. TWT again. Optional shonen ai between Bakura, Yami Bakura, and/or Malik.

Oh, and I blame this on/dedicate this to Sunfreak, because of all the wonderful parts of The Egypt Game. ^_^

This could have been a stand-alone fic about Bakura, but I decided that it's a Spoils fic and so… Yet another possible reason why Yami Bakura never wins:

~~~

To the victor go the spoils.

Spoil, _verb_; To corrupt, to cause to go bad. _He spoils her with his influence._

~~~

Spoils 

Take Three****

The funeral was beautiful. It wasn't a large or extravagant event, but he probably would have preferred the small ceremony that they gave him. It was open casket, too – something nobody would have expected considering the condition his corpse was in when they found it. It was amazing what the morticians could do with a little makeup. If anybody hadn't known about the bullet hole beneath his hair, they wouldn't ever suspect. 

Marik didn't attend. He didn't know that anybody had died until too late.

~~~

There was a gun in the closet in Bakura's father's room. A .22 Smith & Wesson pistol that was kept cleaned and in working order, with an eleven-round magazine and the bullets in their box next to it. There were others too, but the .22 was the first one Yami Bakura saw. He pulled the knowledge out of Ryou's mind forcefully and painfully and ignored his landlord's protests, because Yami Bakura was an asshole and that was the sort of thing that an asshole would do. 

He loaded one round into the magazine, confident that he wouldn't miss. Then he checked to make sure that Ryou was safely locked in his soulroom; good, his landlord wouldn't feel a thing. Wouldn't even know when it happened.

He didn't want to hurt his landlord any more than he always did. The point of this, actually, was to _end_ the pain. 

The magazine slid into the handle of the gun and clicked into place. He pushed the safety off. 

He'd taken care of everything. Tied up all the loose ends, and now it was time to end it. 

Briefly he wondered if Yami Yuugi knew what a gun was. Yami Yuugi, the King of Games, the one who would always win, who was so determined to win, who knew how to live and enjoy his life… Was he jealous of the Pharaoh? Yes, he could admit that he was. Who wouldn't want that fierce determination, that will to live and to win and avoid sacrificing others in the process? Who wouldn't want the support of that group of friends?

Yami Bakura couldn't win a game against the Pharaoh. The first time he should have; he'd gotten the double zero roll, but his landlord had interfered, as he'd known he would. Later, though, in Battle City, Bakura had caught on and had tried to make the thief the victor, worked with Malik and tried to scare Yami Yuugi out of attacking. That wouldn't do, and so it didn't; Yami Yuugi couldn't lose.

Oh, but Yami Bakura _would_ win the last game he played with the King of Games. The gun in his hand would assure that. 

~~~

Shrieks filled the air as the dark mist of the Shadow Realm spilled out of the classroom and into the hallway. Jounouchi and Honda sighed, moving to collect the witnesses, and Anzu and Miho shook their heads. "Third time this week," Anzu muttered, and the two began helping the boys round up any students who'd seen the black swirling mass fill up the room. 

It was annoying, to say the least, but what else could they do? It wasn't as though anybody could control the Ring Spirit, and Bakura certainly couldn't stay home all the time to try to avoid it. At least most of the time Yami Bakura didn't attack in school, but when he did it caused quite an uproar. The group would have been at a loss had Bakura not learned the nifty trick of using the Ring to make people think that their recent memories were a dream. However, that didn't make it any less irritating, and the four struggled to keep the witnesses together while the duel progressed. There was no doubt as to who would win; it'd been happening for a little over a month. Yami Bakura would challenge Yami Yuugi for the puzzle, lose, get banished, and return to duel again, sometimes within the space of a few days. The fights had been occurring more and more often, as well.

Miho wondered briefly if Bakura was having any more of a hard time than they were. 

Half an hour later Bakura and Yuugi emerged from the classroom, the latter still in possession of the Puzzle, and the tendrils of the Shadow Realm retracted and pulled away into nothing. There was a flash and the teachers and students had no idea where half of fifth period had gone. 

Bakura stared at the Ring in his hands, rubbing his thumb along the circle rim, and classes started up again. 

~~~

'_But it'll come back…_'

'_It only comes back if somebody else tries to get rid of it. If _you_ threw it, it'd stay away._'

~~~

Not half a day later there was the sound of breaking porcelain as a plate shattered in Bakura's kitchen. Yami Bakura leaned against the refrigerator, breathing heavily. 

'_Welcome back,_' His other's voice echoed in his mind. Yami Bakura's permanent scowl deepened. He stood up, leaving the refrigerator, and walked to the other side of the room where the shards of the plate littered the floor. He picked one up slowly, giving Bakura plenty of time to realize his intent, but there were no protests. He gripped the shard angrily, feeling no satisfaction as the blood dripped down and fell to the floor in large drops. 

There was still no protest from his host.

He threw the shard away, smiling emptily as it hit the wall above the sink and broke into more pieces. He let Bakura have the body back then, watching in mutual silence as his landlord cleaned up his mess and then bandaged the still-bleeding hand. 

~~~

'_Why can't you hate me? Stop bringing me back, get rid of the Ring, don't be so stupid!_'

'_I'm not going to help you do this. If you want to then you'll have to do it yourself. Quit trying to use everybody else to accomplish your goal._'

~~~

The next day he didn't even wait for class to start. He waited outside the school gates for Yuugi and the others to arrive, and smirked as everybody froze upon seeing him. 

Yami Yuugi was in control in an instant, pulling out his deck and glaring at the thief. "I haven't even said a word yet and he's ready to fight," Yami Bakura observed, snickering. 

Yami Yuugi gripped his deck tighter. "You only come out to make trouble, unless you've come here to give a resignation speech. Are we dueling or not?" He demanded. 

The white-haired one summoned the familiar Shadow Realm bubble around them, and the remaining four sighed and began to check for witnesses.

Yami Bakura kept his perpetual scowl/smirk on as he drew his hand of five cards. He was perhaps the only person who could pull off said expression, save Marik, and the blond villain had been on some vacation for nearly a month, so currently Yami Bakura dominated the evil smirk category. "Shall I make the first move?" He asked, voice neutral. 

"If you wish," Yami Yuugi replied, glaring over his cards. "Though," He added, unable to resist the jibe, "You went first the last two times and look at all the good it did you."

For his reply the thief merely laid a facedown card in defense. "Your move."

The shorter one frowned and drew a card. No snide retort? His opponent hadn't ever before let him get away with an insult. Not even a 'fuck you?' It was unnerving. So, ever the kind, concerned person with only the occasional borderline-sadistic tendencies, Yami Yuugi proceeded to ask, "What's wrong with you?"

Yami Bakura's expression didn't change. "Play the game, asshole. There's nothing more wrong with me than usual." 

Yami Yuugi laid down Black Magician in attack mode – he mentally smiled at the lucky hand he'd drawn – as well as a facedown card behind it. "Black Magician, attack his facedown card," He ordered, glaring again at the thief. He didn't like it when his questions were dodged, and all Yami Bakura ever did was avoid giving direct answers. Either that or he told outright lies.

Yami Bakura allowed his smirk to grow a little as his card was destroyed, activating Man-Eater Bug's effect and killing the Black Magician in return. His expression returned to the standard after a second, however, and the former Pharaoh's notion that there was something wrong only grew. No gloating followed the death of his favourite monster, no scathing remark from the generally cruel and mocking spirit. 

"Your turn," Yami Yuugi announced. "And for the record, I don't _care_ if something's wrong with you, but I'm curious now."

"Curiosity killed the cat," Remarked the robber, drawing a card and laying two down.

"And satisfaction brought him back," Returned Yami Yuugi, wincing as both Yami Bakura's monsters attacked. His trap took care of the more powerful one, but the three-eyed beast got through to his life points.

"End turn," The white-haired one said in a monotone. Then, "Maybe I just figured that you wouldn't talk as much if I didn't, and you run at the mouth more than most of these gossiping females do." 

At that Yami Yuugi set up a play that halved his opponent's life in one hit. Yami Bakura twitched slightly at the pain, but in an instant his poker face was back.

"There's something wrong with you whether you admit it or not," The King of Games insisted. "And now it's going to be a game to me to figure it out."

"That's a game nobody could win, least of all you," Yami Bakura informed him bitterly, drawing a card and playing Dark Necrophia. Yami Yuugi blinked. Damn; he'd already killed three of Yami Bakura's monsters? He should have gotten used to the other's occult strategy by now, but he hadn't been putting his entire attention on the game.

Then again, he decided as he drew a card, it didn't matter anymore. He sacrificed his three monsters, played Osiris in attack mode, and allowed himself a triumphant smirk. "I'll give you a choice," He told Yami Bakura. "You can tell me what's wrong or I can end the game now."

The reaction was not the expected, but then again it hardly was when dealing with immortal psychos. Yami Bakura threw his head back and laughed. "You'll end the game anyway!" He choked out, flashing a toothy grin and returning to his cackling. "You're the _Game_ _King_, it's what you do! There's no way for me to win!" He crossed his arms over his stomach and bent over in hoots of maniacal laughter. 

Yami Yuugi raised an eyebrow. "Then why do you keep doing this?" He asked, gesturing to the swirling darkness around them. He wasn't expecting an answer.

"Oh, just banish me and get it over with." The laughter was gone and Yami Bakura placed his hand of cards back over his deck. "I wouldn't be able to keep doing it, anyway, if my landlord didn't keep calling me back."

The King shook his head and collected his cards. "Bakura only wishes to help you, yet you can't understand that," He said, mostly to himself.

"I understand it perfectly!" The Ring Spirit screeched, startling Yami Yuugi. "I'm not so far gone that I can't understand fucking _kindness_! I do everything I can to make him hate me and _every_ fucking time all he says is 'Welcome back.' He says _welcome_!" He flung an arm and his deck went flying, but neither spirit paid much attention to the fluttering cards. "I hurt his body, I yell at him, I try to kill his dumb-ass friends, and he _welcomes_ me!"

Yami Yuugi could only stare. Yami Bakura glared back at him, before spreading his arms out. "Come on. Quit stalling. Banish me, and tell my dumb-ass landlord to get rid of the Ring."

~~~

'_It's a stupid way out. It's cowardly, and if you're going to do it then be a man and do it without anybody else's help._'

~~~

Bakura sat on his bed, Ring in his hands. He ran his thumb over the circle, a gesture that was quickly becoming a nervous habit, and hugged the metal ornament to his chest. 

Something was going to break soon, he knew. Something, but he wasn't sure what. 

~~~

Yami Bakura waited just outside the school gates for Yuugi and the others for a second time. His smirk failed to appear when the entire group flinched in unison at seeing him, and there was no cackling at Yami Yuugi's bravado. In fact he said nothing at all, merely summoning the Shadow Realm around himself and the King and cuing the sighs and headshakes from the witness crew. 

Yami Yuugi pulled his deck out and started to shuffle, but stopped when the thief held up a hand. "I didn't come here for that," He said flatly. Yami Yuugi raised an eyebrow. "I just didn't want your fan club to hear this," He explained. 

"Your resignation speech?" Yami Yuugi joked. His eyes grew to a point where it would have been questionable as to whether it was he or Yuugi in control, however, when Yami Bakura nodded.

Apologizing wasn't hard, Yami Bakura told himself. It was just saying a couple words, it wasn't as though he meant them. He was a wonderful liar, he should have been able to say it. But it wasn't the words that stopped him from speaking; it was who he'd be saying them to, and the blow to his pride that would follow. After trying for so long, to suddenly just say 'good game' and quit trying? 

"You win," He said abruptly. The words weren't snide, only brusque and rushed, the perpetual smirking scowl was on vacation, and Yami Yuugi was at a loss and speechless. 

Yami Bakura waved a hand and the Shadow Realm vanished before the ex-Pharaoh had a chance to regain his composure. Unfortunately, at least in Yami Bakura's mind, the other spirit returned to the Puzzle before any of the others could see the dumfounded expression on his face.

"Huh? Why's he still here?" Jounouchi demanded upon seeing Yami Bakura and checking Yuugi over. Having made sure that he was all right and still in possession of the Puzzle he turned to face Yami Bakura. "What happened? What the Hell?"

Yami Bakura's smirk appeared then, but his eyes didn't narrow in the usual sadistic glee. "He's had a bit of a shock, I'm afraid," He sneered. 

"Why you!" Honda threatened, advancing. He stopped, though, when Bakura's big green eyes looked up at him. 

'_Are you sure about this?_' His landlord's mental voice echoed in his head. 

'_Hey, are you forgetting my former profession? I'm an expert at this. It's fine,_' Yami Bakura reassured, shifting his grip on the shovel's handle. '_You'll be back at the airport hours before your flight back home is due, and Kaiba will never know that his Visa Platinum was missing._' He felt Bakura's mental headshake and allowed a grin, walking casually toward the graveyard entrance. The gate was locked, probably on account of the fact that it was a little after 2 AM, but Bakura's body was still functioning as though he were still in Japan, making it sometime in the afternoon for him. He didn't plan to be in America long enough to make adjusting to the time zone necessary; only long enough to drop something off. 

Yami Bakura looked around, seeing nobody, tossed the shovel over the chain-link fence, and quickly jumped over after it. He landed smoothly on his feet and pulled out the Ring. With a slight glow one of the spindles lifted and began to direct him, and after picking the shovel back up he followed the slight pull. 

'_I never thought I'd see you do something like this,_' His landlord commented. '_Returning something you stole…_'

'_Don't rub it in,_' Yami Bakura shot back, navigating through the tombstones. The Ring's pointer dropped suddenly, and in the dim light the spirit could make out some letters on the flat stone they'd stopped in front of. '_Most respected landlord,_' Yami Bakura called, _'would you look to see if this is the right one?_'

A little control was given to Bakura, just enough for him to move his eyes along the words. It took him a minute, but he was able to make out the "Pegasus J. Crawford" engraved into the tombstone. 

'_This is the one,_' He affirmed. Yami Bakura took complete control of the body back and stuck the shovel deep into the dirt. 

It was satisfying work; dig in, throw the dirt over to the side, and repeat. Over and over for the better part of an hour, until the bell of the church next to the cemetery tolled for 3 AM. That was when the metal of the shovel hit the coffin, and Yami Bakura tossed the tool to the side and reached into his pocket. The object he pulled out fit into his closed fist, and he set it on top of the coffin. With a flash of light the Eye disappeared through the wood, returning to its previous host, a resting place it favoured over remaining with Yami Bakura. 

He climbed out of the hole with his shovel, noticing that it was starting to rain, and grinned. The dirt was quickly thrown back into the grave before the body could get chilled, and as the rain increased into a downpour he finished refilling the hole and left as quickly as he could. Hopefully nobody would even realize that the ground had been disturbed, with the water pouring down and packing the dirt back together. 

"I still can't believe it, man! There's hope for the Other Bakura yet!" Jounouchi grinned and threw an arm around Bakura's shoulder. "That must feel great, man."

Bakura smiled up at Jounouchi, rubbing his thumb over the golden circle of the Ring. "It is wonderful," He admitted, looking back down to his necklace. "But…"

The group waited in anticipation, only to be disappointed as Bakura shook his head and decided, "No, it's nothing." His thumb traced the circle. 

~~~

It took a week of absence from school before anybody decided to look him up in the phonebook and check up on him. It took another week of him not answering the phone or the door when those few concerned people did check for them to begin to worry, but there was nothing they could do, they told themselves. He was probably just out of town, and didn't have time to tell them – or maybe was in an accident and at the hospital, but then wouldn't he have called one of them? Still, there really was nothing they could do by then, whether they cared enough or not.

It was another two weeks after that – a month in total – before his father returned home, unlocked the door, and wondered what that horrible smell was. Then he noticed the red stain that'd soaked through the ceiling, and he ran upstairs to his bedroom. 

The blood was a permanent stain in the floor beneath the carpet as well as a sticky sort of glue, sealing the corpse's pale cheek to the floor, and the smell was too much to bear.

It was another month after that before Marik returned, bounding off the plane and planning to surprise his friend with his early return. He was smiling. Nobody had been able to get in contact with him to tell him the news. 

He stared, unable to speak, at Yami Yuugi, the only one who'd been brave enough to inform him. Unable to ask why the Pharaoh, without meaning to, always took away from him those he cared for. 

~~~

The two white-haired boys faced each other in the corridor between soul rooms. Bakura smiled softly, expression never reaching his dull green eyes, and Yami Bakura's lip twitched in a failed attempt to return the gesture. 

'_I'm glad you're trying to make things right again,_' Bakura was the first to speak. He stepped toward his other but stopped. '_We'll work this out, won't we?_'

Yami Bakura stepped toward his reincarnation, closing the gap between them. He placed one hand on the teenager's cheek, staring into the dim emerald eyes. Bakura placed his own hand on top of the thief's, returning the stare and wondering. 

'_I wish you would have learned to hate me,_' Yami Bakura spoke softly, almost an imitation of his host's usual voice. The green eyes widened slightly in fear. '_It would have made this so much easier._'

Bakura pulled away from his darker half. '_No, you can't mean this…_' He trailed off, then started again. '_You were doing better—we can work this out!_' Yami Bakura shook his head slowly. 

'_If only you'd just gotten rid of me, you wouldn't have to go through this too,_' He murmured. '_And I know that, even though you wanted this once, you don't anymore._' He walked to Bakura once more, finding the younger boy's hands and holding them in his. '_But I've wanted this for thousands of years and nobody would oblige me, and you… you understand, right?_' 

Bakura's eyes began to water, and so he shut them. '_Damn it,_' He muttered. '_You make me start to feel again, you make me realize that I need to take my life into my own hands and find a goal and start to live, and now… I can't do the same for you, can I…_' 

Yami Bakura reached up and wiped away one of the tears. '_You make this really hard,_' He whispered. '_Really, really hard._'

'_The don't do it!_' Bakura pleaded, grabbing the hand at his face. '_If it hurts, then just … stay…_'

Yami Bakura shook his head again. '_But it'll hurt so much more if I stay._' The thought was almost private, but Bakura heard it, and another tear ran down his face. '_Please stop this. I'm going through with it whether you want me to or not. I just wanted to tell you something first, since you never hated me._'

The green eyes looked up expectantly, and Yami Bakura leaned forward to rest his forehead against the younger boy's. 

'_I'm sorry about everything,_' He whispered in a rush, and before Bakura could react the thief threw him into his soul room and slammed the door. 

~~~

'_Welcome back._'

The spirit would have placed his hands over his ears and screamed, had he the body to do it with. He did, however, do the mental equivalent and sent Bakura to his knees clutching his head. 

'_What is _wrong_ with you, boy!?_' He demanded, still doing the mental equivalent of physically shouting in Bakura's ear. '_Are you stupidity incarnate rather than _my _incarnation? Why do you keep calling me back!?_'

Bakura clutched his head and grit his teeth but said nothing in response, mentally or vocally. The spirit's rage grew. He concentrated, fueled by his madness, and the transparent form that was possible by the Ring's power slowly became opaque and solid. The Eye glowed within Bakura's pocket, supplying the necessary energy to maintain a physical form. Bakura stared up at his other half, eyes wide and pain forgotten, and didn't even squeak as he was lifted off his feet by his shirt collar. His other half hadn't ever done _this_ before.

"Why are you so stupid?" The spirit hissed, and before Bakura could answer the spirit raised his hand and brought it down onto Bakura's pale cheek. The boy's head fell back from the force of the blow, and Yami Bakura dropped him. 

Bakura's head rolled back to a more comfortable position, and he brought a hand to his face, still silent. The spirit fell to his knees next to him, staring at the growing patch of red that was spreading across his host's face. 

Wavering only slightly, Bakura stood. "I'll go get some ice," He said quietly, not out of fear but just because it was the way he spoke. 

Yami Bakura grabbed his ankle before he could take a step. "Why don't you hate me?" He asked. 

His landlord looked down at him, bland green eyes not revealing anything. "I can't hate you," Bakura told him, not trying to pull his leg back. "That'd be feeling an emotion," He explained, "and even if I could hate something, it'd be the things you do and never you."

The thief yanked and Bakura returned to the floor with a thud. "What can I do to make you hate me?" He asked, crawling over to the other boy. He pushed the teen onto his back, holding himself above the still-expressionless boy. 

"I refuse." Bakura's voice was firm, but still soft. "I've told you before. I won't help you kill yourself."

Yami Bakura grimaced and raised his hand once more, only to abandon the physical form and retreat into the Ring. The white-haired boy lay on the ground for a few more moments, before standing up and getting the ice for his face. 

la fin


	4. Take Four

Well, don't expect any more Spoils takes for a while. These last two have taken a lot out of my muses. 

I like sonnets. So does Yami Marik. And I wuv my reviewers. 

~~~

To the victor go the spoils.

Spoil, _verb_; To corrupt, to cause to go bad. _He spoils her with his influence._

~~~

**Spoils**

**Take** **Four**

The fire, the too bright flames everywhere

Starting to catch on his clothing, he pouts

Too bright, but made up for by the terror

That he can hear in his obstacles' shouts

He waits for darkness, for the flame to die

When there is nothing left by the fire

The screams grow hoarse while someone starts to cry

Pain satisfies but is not his desire

He waits while his body burns away

For the dark and empty world of nothing

That their fading lives cannot keep at bay.

They're very determined to keep living.

So foolish to cling to life stubbornly,

When death is but the final destiny.


	5. Take Five

Ok, ok. So Take Five is out considerably sooner than I'd thought. Ain't my fault – I got the second issue of _Bast_, which has Apophis, and then started listening to strange music, and then this decided it wanted to be written. It's another one of the short little parts.

I worry about this whole thing getting redundant, which is why I'm sometimes hesitant to continue it. … And then I look at _Possession_ by Edmondia Dantes, which is up to 20 parts. Great fic, by the way. ^_^ But anyway. It seems like you can do more when you use different characters… maybe I'll write a victorious Seto sometime. Bwahahaha.

This kinda goes with **Take Four** – which, in case I wasn't clear enough on, is what happens when Yami Malik wins and kills everybody. ^_^

Soundtrack: _Stay _– Aesma Daeva

(If you're at all interested – because the song _does_ complement the fic quite a bit – and you can't find the song on Kazaa or anything, e-mail me and I'll see if I can send it to you.)

~~~

To the victor go the spoils.

Spoil, _verb_; To corrupt, to cause to go bad. _He spoils her with his influence._

~~~

**Take Five**

A flash of a memory hit him at the same time as the pain – skewed white hair not covering the bloody face, the tan skin peeking out beneath its crimson coating, like red watercolour paint but thicker, so much blood on the skin and the red cloak, too much red and white, the pale ivory of hair and eyes, eyes glassy blank totally white save the tiny rim of red iris barely visible under the upper lid – and then he was shoved back into reality with a heavy precious burden in his arms.

The stars were no longer visible, and the sky was light near the horizon line, but it was much too early for even a false dawn. Yami Malik, who desired the darkness, didn't seem to mind that his destruction was the cause of the light. The flames were tall, twisting and flaring up even higher than the blond who stood in the center of it all, cackling in his victory. 

Ryou Bakura held his darker half up, but it was difficult. He wasn't physically weak – not as strong as somebody like Jounouchi, for sure, but not feeble either – but couldn't recall ever having to use his muscles so much as he'd had to that night. It had been a long night, too, and it wasn't even over yet. Though Yami Malik promised the end of the night was coming soon, and not the dawn.

He shifted his grip, and the other Bakura coughed, another line of blood dribbling out of his mouth. Ryou froze, both for fear of causing more injuries than the forced ejection from his body had inflicted, and from the fact that Yami Malik had heard the cough over the fire crackling and the screaming. 

For one of the first times since the dark Bakura had been defeated at Monster World, Ryou was afraid. Yami Malik sauntered over, not seeming to notice that his pants leg had caught fire and was burning into black cinders. 

Bakura's body twitched in his arms, and he tried not to be scared on the outside at least.

"You know that you'll die too?" He called to the advancing horror. His thin, tiny voice was almost lost over the other noises, but like the cough that had first caught the fiend's attention, it was heard.

"Of course," Yami Malik answered. "There would be no point otherwise."

His tongue slipped out and licked his lips in anticipation, the flickering firelight casting distorting shadows on his dark face. Ryou flinched and stepped back at seeing that, momentarily forgetting the injured one in his arms. (Wondering why he had to see something so frightening and wrong and _dark_ when it was shortly after the middle of the night and it _all_ should have been dark, with no fires, and he shouldn't have had to see the expression that was darker than midnight on Malik's face.)

Midnight is dark, but at least it has the stars to lighten it.

Seeing the shorter boy's struggle to both stay away from him and support his dark half in strained arms, the blond laughed. "I wonder," He said absently, still approaching, "why you're not dead now. I already killed you." Still advancing, ever closer. "Not that it matters, because you two will stay dead this time."

Yami Bakura coughed, and Ryou jerked his head down to see what had happened. The side of his tenant's mouth that wasn't caked in slightly sticky blood was pulling upward, grinning. "Ryou," He moved his mouth soundlessly, and it was only the slight remnants of his presence in Ryou's mind that allowed the boy to understand what was said. "Remind that bastard that I don't stay dead." He tried to laugh and ended up coughing again – the hollow words didn't comfort either ivory-haired boy.

The memory of the attack that had forced him out of his landlord's body was still painfully apparent in both their bodies, though his landlord had suffered considerably less damage.

"I will destroy the world," The dark Malik proclaimed, as though he had not made it obvious enough by then. Perhaps it was said just to remind Ryou that he should be afraid for himself and not just the spirit in his arms. "I am like Apophis, the great serpent who will destroy the sun Ra and cast the world into darkness!" He sneered at the near-unconscious Bakura, "Your little Set will not kill me this time."

Yami Bakura once more attempted a chuckle, and again ended up coughing, whispering something. "Turn around," His mouth moved, "let Set stab you in the back. Hah, ha –" and he hacked and was quiet. [1] 

"You won't be creating eternal darkness," Ryou argued, dragging himself and his tenant back, away, away from that dark creature. "The sun will still rise even after we're all dead!"

Yami Malik cackled once more, loudly. "But if there's nobody alive to see it, who can say that the sun does rise!?" He demanded. "It won't ever rise for _you_ again, and that's what matters for you!"

Ryou whimpered and pulled the other Bakura to his chest. His feet still shifted back, but there was no conscious thought to the movement now; pushing each heel back automatically, the terror still advancing closer and closer. 

"At least that damn pharaoh died before us," Bakura mouthed, pushing deeper into Ryou's embrace. 

"Any last words?" Yami Malik taunted. The fire had advanced up to his hip, and Ryou suddenly became aware of his surroundings once more; he'd been backing against a wall, the orange flames creeping toward him, surrounding Malik and consuming all.

It made sense in a twisted way, Ryou's mind thought, in the panicked gallows' laughter hysteria of when you knew death was waiting for you. If you were Christian the world had been destroyed by water the last time around, so it was only logical that fire should follow. He wondered if the Christians had the wrong idea all along, especially considering the religion of the one who would be killing them all, and he wondered if his hair would burn, and he wondered what Ra and Set and Apophis would think of the destruction if they truly did exist. Maybe Apophis'd be jealous that he wasn't the one winning. Maybe they wouldn't care.

He squeezed his eyes shut, not wanting to watch his own demise, and the memory returned to show him those blank gazing eyes on the corpse that had darker skin and shorter hair but was still so obviously recognizable. 

"Any last words?" The dying man whispered against his chest. "I said mine long ago. Not that anybody listened then." Even without the voice, the bitter tone was still heard.

A fly landed on one of the glossy white spheres.

Closer still, and Yami Malik was there, hand around Ryou's pale neck. Ryou forced himself to open his eyes, maybe the last time, dark dark violet examined wavering pale emerald, and it was the last time and all three knew it. 

"Yes," Ryou managed to whisper, his usually small voice barely audible. But Malik heard, and he waited for the last words, the fire creeping up his back and then catching on his hair. "Make sure our eyes are closed."

La fin

[1] These are references to Egyptian Mythology (bwaha, I did my research). Yami Bakura reminds me of Set – empty threats and generally an ass. And Set killed Apophis by tricking him into turning around, and then cut Apophis's head off. Nasty little backstabber. ^_^ So that's what he and Yami Malik are talking about.


	6. Take Six

Thankuu to reviewers. ^_^ 

rayemars requested a little drabble from me. This isn't the requested fic, but it was spawned by her request. I wanted to make it Isis+Rishid but I couldn't quite manage it. ****

Warnings: Death 

~~~

To the victor go the spoils.

Spoil, _verb_; To corrupt, to cause to go bad. _He spoils her with his influence._****

~~~

Spoils Take Six 

Isis screamed, loudly, a short and shrill noise. Yami Marik cackled, deranged and triumphant, saying without the words, 'You couldn't stop me!' And Rishid, well, Rishid was having a lot more trouble breathing now than he'd had a minute ago, and so the most noise he was making was a grunt and then a little wet cough that sounded completely out of place coming from a man of his stature. He started to fall backward, and Yami Marik yanked the Sennen Rod from his chest. 

If Rishid had been allowed to fall, he might have hit his head hard enough on the cold floor to knock him unconscious, and then he would have died without much more agony. But Isis was a bit selfish at that point, and she screamed his name and ran up to catch him before he hit the ground. They both fell down anyway, Isis unable to support his weight, but it was a much slower fall than it could have been and he ended up with his head in her lap instead of cracking it against the floor.

Rishid didn't want to cough again, because he had a feeling that he'd probably get blood on Isis's dress if he did. Which was odd, he thought, because he'd been stabbed in the chest, so why would he be coughing the stuff up? Maybe it had something to do with the lungs – it wasn't as though Rishid had studied this sort of thing. 

Isis was sobbing. She ran her fingers through his ponytail, noting the grease – he hadn't been taking much care of himself, he never did. There were at least some things that hadn't changed since they were younger. She couldn't lose him now; she couldn't lose _both_ her brothers to that dark thing inside Marik. Not now, when she'd found them again and was trying so hard to get them back, so then maybe they could be a little family again, and she could see what other things hadn't changed in the six years they'd been apart. Except she was going to lose him anyway, despite how hard she wished he'd stop bleeding and despite how much she cried and wailed.

Rishid finally did cough, and a little blood did dribble onto Isis's dress, and then he didn't breathe anymore. And Yami Marik, who'd been entertained thus far by watching Isis bawl, decided that since Rishid was actually dead he should move onto killing Isis –

– She yelled again, but this time actually out loud, and ripped off the Tauk before the vision could get any further. It hit the wall of her room with a clank, falling to the floor just as loudly. 

[la fin]

[les larmes ne sont rien]


End file.
